


On The Verge

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cheating, Co-workers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hotels, Humor, Jealousy, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke finds out Bellamy is sleeping with the boss's wife and agrees to help cover for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some random ass Michael J Fox movie I caught like 10 minutes of once.

Clarke would be lying if she said she’d never thought about Bellamy Blake naked before. Anyone with a working pair of eyes can see he’s gorgeous. Dark curly hair, eyes she could melt into, and a smattering of freckles across his handsome face that take him from regular hot guy to an otherworldly beauty. She’s never actually seen his body but she’s pretty sure it’s amazing. At least it always is when she’s fantasising about doing him in the elevator at work.

Up until this moment she thought it might eventually happen too (although maybe not at work), after all he’s always flirting with her, which she doesn’t hate, and she’s pretty sure she caught him checking her out once or twice, especially that time she accidentally wore a shirt that was a size too small to work.

She had actually been planning to ask him out in the near future. But now she can see she’s been deluding herself, and she’s glad she saved herself the embarrassment of being rejected. Although it’s safe to say this is only _slightly_ less embarrassing.

“ _Bellamy_?” she says incredulously when she spots him as she walks into her boss’s bedroom, in the penthouse of the hotel they work at. “What the _fuck_ are you doing?” He’s lying naked on the king bed, and Clarke is so shocked she can’t even bring herself to appreciate what he has on display before he’s covering himself with the sheets.

“Clarke. Fuck,” he swears as he sits up, making sure all the important parts are covered. “What are you doing in here?”

“Seriously Bellamy?” she huffs angrily. Her face is bright red, she knows, half from embarrassment and half from anger. “You’re the one fucking _naked_ in our boss’s bed! I’m _supposed_ to be in here. Roan sent me to get his phone which he left behind.”

“Okay, I know this looks bad,” Bellamy says, getting off the bed, holding the sheets around his waist, and maybe Clarke hadn’t gotten a good look at his junk, but she’s getting a good look at his chest now and it’s honestly just not fair that he’s so attractive because she’s trying to be mad at him.

“ _Looks_ bad?” Clarke hisses. “You’re sleeping with Roan’s wife!” she accuses, because that’s the logical conclusion, and from the sheepish look on Bellamy’s face she knows she’s right. As if on cue, Echo walks out of the ensuite bathroom, wearing only a shirt which Clarke can only assume is Bellamy’s despite the fact that there’s a walk in robe only a few feet away full of more expensive shirts owned by her _husband._

“What are you doing in here?” Echo asks Clarke angrily.

“You’ve got some nerve asking me that,” Clarke spits. Look, she doesn’t always love Roan. He’s a reasonably good boss but he can be demanding and sometimes short with her. Still, he doesn’t deserve this shit.

“You can’t speak to me like that,” Echo says coolly. “I’m your boss.”

“ _Roan_ is my boss,” Clarke reminds her. “And I don’t think he’ll be too impressed when he finds out what you’ve been doing behind his back.”

“If you tell him, I’ll make your life a living hell,” Echo warns.

“I’d like to see you try,” Clarke scoffs. Echo narrows her eyes.

“Get. Out,” she seethes and Clarke purses her lips, strides over to the beside table and grabs Roan’s phone before marching out of the room, with the intent of heading straight to Roan to tell him what his wife has been doing. She doesn’t even consider the possibility that Roan won’t want to know, she knows he hates to be kept in the dark.

She makes it to the elevator and is about to step in when she hears Bellamy call out her name. She turns to see him exiting the penthouse, still shirtless, though he’s wearing pants now. Clarke stops to wait for him, though her feeling of disapproval is so strong it seeps into her expression.

“Clarke,” he says again as he reaches her. “Please don’t tell Roan,” he begs. He looks so desperate and Clarke almost feels sorry for him. But then she remembers he’s the one that made the dumbass decision to sleep with a married woman, married to his _boss_ no less. So, yeah. He’s not getting any sympathy from her.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she snaps. “If I don’t tell him and he finds out I kept it from him then he’ll be mad at me too.”

“But he won’t fire you,” Bellamy persuades. “He respects you, values you too much. He wants to make you manager.”

“What’s your point?”

“He’ll fire me,” Bellamy says, his eyes pleading with her. “I’m just his driver, he can easily get a new one. I really need the job, Clarke.” Clarke knows this, of course. She knows he’s paying for half his sister’s college tuition, plus saving up for his own. She knows he can barely afford the shitty apartment he lives in. It’s easy for Clarke to take a low paying personal assistant position while her rich mother pays her rent, knowing she can go back to college at any time with her mom’s money and blessing if she decides the hotel business isn’t for her.

Clarke sighs, taking in Bellamy’s desperate plea and weighing it against her own moral judgement. She owes Roan a lot for giving her this job, taking a chance on an inexperienced college drop out and building her up until she’s management material. But Bellamy’s her friend too, and he’s right. Roan will fire him if he finds out his driver has been sleeping with his wife.

“Fine,” she says finally, and Bellamy looks relieved. “I won’t tell. But maybe you should think about breaking it off. Or at least doing it somewhere Roan doesn’t own.” Bellamy has the decency to look sheepish again.

“Thanks, Clarke,” he says. “You’re a good friend.” Clarke forces a smile though his words smart. She’d been so focused on Roan’s feelings, and then Bellamy’s she hadn’t realised how much it hurt _her_. She honestly thought there was something between her and Bellamy, and now she feels like a total idiot. Of course he flirts with her, men do that. It doesn’t mean he actually _likes_ her. It’s evident now that he doesn’t and never has. _You’re a good friend_. Ouch.

“This better not come back to bite me,” she warns, and Bellamy nods seriously before heading back into Roan and Echo’s apartment, leaving Clarke to wallow in the aftermath of her discovery and her decision.

-

She almost forgets about it for a couple of weeks, though she spends the first few days feeling guilty every time Roan talks to her, which, considering she’s his assistant, is a lot. She doesn’t know how Bellamy and Echo do it, lie to his face and not get eaten away by guilt, and _they’re_ the ones actually doing something wrong. Still, she decides it’s not her problem anymore. As far as any of them are concerned she knows nothing about it.

It’s fairly easy to just put it in the back of her mind, seeing as she has more pressing matters to deal with, such as Roan’s impending trip to Paris. He’s looking to branch out, maybe turn his hotel into a chain, and there are people in Paris who are willing to work with him. Clarke is going with him, of course, he needs his right hand man by his side for the negotiations, and his wife, Echo is also coming along for the ride. Clarke had thought it romantic at first, Roan taking his wife to the most romantic city in the world, but now that she knows what a sham their marriage is she finds it nauseating.

If she’s honest, Clarke never really liked Echo that much. She’s always seemed quite self serving and vain, though at least before Clarke had thought Echo actually loved Roan. Now she’s wondering if maybe Echo was only in it for the money. She’s a model, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but she’s not a very successful model, or at least she wasn’t until she was able to start buying her way onto catwalks. But Roan apparently loves her, for what reason Clarke can’t fathom, and since he doesn’t know about the cheating he probably thinks taking his wife to Paris is romantic, even if it is technically a business trip.

The flight there is fine, she tries to sleep a little, but Roan wakes her up periodically to make a note of something or other he needs to remember to do or say, so it’s not exactly a good night’s rest. At least she’ll be able to sleep at the hotel, which, knowing Roan will be the best money can by, so she’s not going to complain.

It’s well into the evening by the time they arrive in Paris, take a private taxi to their hotel on the Champs Elysees and check in. Roan has a booking in the hotel restaurant for dinner, and he invites Clarke along but she doesn’t feel much like being a third wheel to a couple whose relationship is most likely on the rocks, so she tells Roan she’s not feeling well and heads to her room to order room service.

The hotel is probably the fanciest one she’s ever stayed in, and that’s saying something because her mom is rich and she’s stayed in a lot of hotels. The room service is expensive, but Roan’s paying so she can’t bring herself to care. She’s going to enjoy her trip to Paris as much as she can, even if she’ll be working half the time. She has a shower and puts on the robe supplied by the hotel, soft and fluffy against her clean skin, and she’s settled herself by the window with a book by the time her meal arrives.

She’s about ready to go to bed, the time is roughly 10pm, when she hears a knock at the door. Her first instinct is that it’s Roan, coming to make sure she’s ready for tomorrow, although normally he’d just text her. But when she opens the door it’s not Roan at all. It’s Bellamy. He seems to have a habit of being in places he shouldn’t be.

“Hey,” he says, before Clarke can get a word in. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Clarke says immediately. “What are you even doing here?”

“Echo asked me to come,” he says. “Now, will you let me in before Roan sees me?” Clarke can hardly believe what she’s hearing.

“Are you fucking insane?” she hisses. “What are you going to do, fuck Echo while her husband works and then piss off while he fucks her at night?” Bellamy grimaces as if he hadn’t thought of it quite like that. “And what are you doing at my door anyway? Shouldn’t you be with Echo?” Maybe she sounds a little bitter, but mostly she’s just angry that he’s being so stupid. It’s like he _wants_ to get caught.

“Obviously not,” Bellamy huffs. “Echo texted me your room number and told me to wait for her here.”

“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Paris for her,” Clarke shakes her in disbelief.

“Well, she’s paying,” Bellamy shrugs. “Like I’m going to turn down a free trip to Paris.” Clarke gives him a look of disgust. She can hardly believe only a couple of weeks ago she wanted to date this guy. Well, he’s still hot so she can kind of believe it. But she’s annoyed at herself for still being attracted to him, even though he’s clearly one of the stupidest men on the planet.

“You’re a real piece of work,” she scowls. Bellamy almost looks hurt at her words, but he doesn’t get a chance to defend himself because at that moment the doors of the elevator nearby open and Roan is ushering Echo into the hall. There’s no time to hide Bellamy, and Clarke watches as Echo’s eyes widen in panic and Roan frowns in confusion when they spot Bellamy. Obviously Echo and Bellamy really thought they were going to get away with this and had no backup plan for if Roan spotted Bellamy.

“Bellamy?” Roan says as he strides towards Clarke’s room, Echo following him, giving Bellamy signals with her eyes that even Clarke can’t understand. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Bellamy starts, glancing at Clarke.

“I invited him,” Clarke hurriedly interrupts before Bellamy can say something idiotic and ruin his chances of keeping his job.

“I told you I won’t be needing a driver here,” Roan frowns.

“Not as your driver,” Clarke improvises. “We’re, uh… dating.” It’s the only logical explanation she can think of, and Clarke can only thank her lucky stars Bellamy showed up at her own door and not Echo’s. Or more accurately, _Bellamy_ should be thanking _his_ lucky stars that Clarke is a _good friend_ and has decided to cover for him.

“Yeah,” Bellamy quickly agrees. “Paris. Romantic.” Roan raises a knowing eyebrow at Clarke.

“I knew there was something going on between you two,” he says, and Clarke can hardly believe he’s so easy to convince. “Echo and I are off to bed, early start tomorrow,” Roan tells them. “Don’t stay up too late.” He winks as he heads off in the direction of his room. Echo follows with only a quick glance over her shoulder.

Bellamy and Clarke stand in silence for a moment before Bellamy clears his throat.

“So, uh, Echo was supposed to give me a room key. But it looks like that’s not going to happen,” he says. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Go home, Bellamy,” she tells him. She’s so not sharing her room with him.

“I can’t go home _now_ ,” he points out. “Roan’s already seen me and he thinks we’re dating. He’ll think it’s weird if I leave now.”

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” Clarke assures him, but she’s pretty sure she already knows she’s going to let him in.

“But Clarke, it’s Paris,” Bellamy grins, as if he knows her resolve is fading. Clarke purses her lips at him. “Let me stay,” he says, somewhere between a plea and a command.

“Fine,” Clarke relents. “But you’re sleeping on the floor.”

-

The talks with the interested parties go very well the next morning, and Clarke is so intent on the conversation, on learning how these things work that she doesn’t even think about the fact that Bellamy and Echo are probably screwing each others brains out this very second.

Clarke speaks limited French so she can’t always follow the conversation, but Roan speaks fluently, having grown up in Quebec, and makes sure to translate most of it for her. From what Clarke can tell, they’ve already made the decision to go ahead with the hotel and now it’s just a matter of legalities.

After a day of discussions of contracts and plans and locations, where nothing really ended up being settled, Roan and Clarke head back to the hotel.

“I’ve booked a restaurant for the four of us tonight at eight. Meet us in the lobby,” Roan tells Clarke as the exit the elevator and head to their respective rooms. Clarke just nods, knowing she can’t fake being sick two nights in a row.

She’s as good as forgotten about Bellamy’s presence, so she starts a little when she opens the door to her hotel room and finds him lying on her bed, reading her book.

“Make yourself at home why don’t you,” she huffs, dropping her bag to the floor and kicking her shoes off. She ignores the twinge in her chest she feels at the sight of him looking so comfortable in her bed, even if it is just a hotel bed.

“I assumed I was only banned from the bed when you weren’t in it,” he says, lowering the book. He’s got his glasses on, thick framed and adorable, and he’s dressed in only sweat pants and Clarke has to stop herself from drooling.

“Well, the least you could do is wear a shirt,” Clarke grumbles.

“Oh come on, you love it,” he winks. A few weeks ago Clarke would have made some flirty comment back, maybe teased him a little about how hot he thinks he is. Now she just rolls her eyes as she strides over to him and snatches her book from his grasp. “Fine, I’ll just watch the movie instead,” he grins.

“It has Tom Cruise in it,” she warns.

“Ugh, I guess I’ll just forget the whole thing then,” he screws up his nose, and Clarke fights to keep the smile from her face. She watches him for a moment as he pulls off his glasses and puts them beside the bed.

“We have to go out for dinner tonight with Roan and Echo,” she tells him, knowing he isn’t going to love the idea. She doesn’t love it herself.

“Can’t we just tell them we need to stay in so we can order room service and have lots of sex?” he suggests. Clarke tries to fight off a blush unsuccessfully, but she hopes he doesn’t notice her slightly red face. It’s not the mention of sex that makes her embarrassed, it’s the mention of sex with _him_. While he’s sitting on her bed showing off his hard brown chest that she definitely has not thought about licking. Recently at least. In the last eight hours.

“I stayed in last night,” she says. “Roan isn’t going to take no for an answer. I’m going to take a shower. Be ready by eight.”

-

It’s dumb, how good he looks in a nice shirt and a pair of pants. It’s like, he’s not even trying, he’s just so effortlessly gorgeous and Clarke marvels at how dumb she was to think he might actually like her, when he can so clearly have anyone he wants. Including, apparently, a married woman whose husband happens to be his boss.

And then there’s Clarke, who has put a considerable amount of effort into her appearance for the evening, not to mention a dress which is practically all cleavage, and Bellamy barely spares her a second glance.

“Ready to go?” he asks her when she walks out of the bathroom, and she nods, leading the way out of the room and to the elevator. They ride down the ten floors in silence, Clarke refusing to look at Bellamy. He looks so good and her crush on him has only heightened, which means she has to pretend like she doesn’t give a fuck about him at all, lest he find out how much he affects her.

She’s nervous, fidgety, worried that Roan will see through the charade and fire both of them on the spot for conspiring against him. She doesn’t know if Bellamy can tell how on edge she is, but as the elevator reaches the ground floor and before the doors can open Bellamy grabs her hand, squeezing gently. She turns to him in confusion, though her heart rate quickens.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Got to make it believable,” he shrugs. Then the doors open and he pulls her out into the lobby to where Roan and Echo are already waiting. Roan smirks when he sees them, taking in their linked hands and Clarke can only wish he really had something to smirk about.

“You guys are going to love this place,” Roan says before leading them out of the hotel to the taxi awaiting them.

The restaurant is beautiful, of course, as if Roan would settle for less. They sit outdoors where they can admire the view of the Seine, and the Eiffel Tower all lit up and looking like a postcard.

The ride to the restaurant had been fairly silent, and Clarke is certain dinner is going to be the same. Awkward and uncomfortable, what with she and Bellamy pretending to be a couple, Echo cheating on Roan with Bellamy, and Roan the only one in the dark about everything.

Clarke half expects dirty looks from Echo, expects her to be sullen and distant, to show nothing but disdain and contempt for her husband. But either Echo is an excellent actress or she feels neither of those things for Roan. She’s nothing but pleasant, holding Roan’s hand, listening to him prattle on about the plans for the new hotel and how impossible the French are, and telling him about her own (probably made up) activities for the day. It makes Clarke wonder why she’s doing it. Cheating on her husband. She loves him, that much is obvious. And yet, not enough to be faithful to him. And she doesn’t seem to hold any ill feelings towards Clarke either, despite the walking in incident and the threatening to tell Roan.

Even pretending to be Bellamy’s girlfriend isn’t awkward, or even hard. He’s good at acting, apparently, and the way he looks at her, touches her casually as if he does it all the time, Clarke could almost believe herself that it’s her he’s sleeping with and not Echo. It’s dangerous probably, to think like that, but it makes it easier to pretend, and as long as she _knows_ it’s pretend, what does it matter if she enjoys his attention for a few hours?

“Have either of you been to Paris before?” Roan asks as the waiter pours his fourth glass of wine, their empty plates having just been taken away. 

“Once,” Clarke answers. Her mom had brought her here one summer. Bellamy shakes his head.

“Never could afford it,” he admits. “Or had the time.”

“Well, it’s nice that you two can be here together,” Echo says, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Not cruelly or mockingly, just as if it’s a private joke between the three of them. Which maybe it is, in some sick, twisted way. “In the city of _love_.”

“We should take a walk along the river after dinner,” Roan suggests.

“Get a picture of the lovebirds with the Eiffel Tower in the background,” Echo smirks and Clarke has to fight back a glower. Roan nods approvingly before calling the waiter over to bring the bill. After he’s paid and left an outrageous tip, the four of them cross the road to the side of the Seine.

“Alright, you two stand there and I’ll get a picture,” Roan instructs, getting his phone out. Bellamy hangs his arm around Clarke and she fits in perfectly against his side, and she tries not to get too comfortable.

“Smile!” Echo laughs.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This is Paris,” Roan scolds. “She obviously wants him to kiss her.” Clarke doesn’t know if it is obvious or not, but he’s not entirely wrong. Still, they’re only _pretending_ to be in love, so kissing would be weird. She opens her mouth to say they don’t need to kiss for the photo, but Echo beats her to it.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Roan,” she huffs. “It’s just a photo.” But Bellamy doesn’t seem to hear her, because he’s already turning Clarke towards him, and she barely has time to be surprised before he’s kissing her. And not like, posing for a photo kissing. Like proper kissing. Like his mouth his open, his tongue parting her lips, his arms strong around her waist, pulling her tighter. Clarke falls into him, into the kiss, her eyes closing and her arms circling around his neck while she lets his tongue explore her mouth. She feels it right down to her toes, and the tug she feels in her chest lets her know how much she wants him.

“Do you want me to put this on Facebook or whatever you kids do these days?” Roan asks, and Bellamy takes that as his cue to pull away, though it’s slow and almost reluctant, and he keeps his eyes on her until Clarke turns back to Roan.

“Don’t put it on Facebook,” Clarke says quickly, though she’s still reeling from the kiss. She so doesn’t need this fake relationship seeping into every aspect of her life. But that’s as far as her coherent thoughts will take her, and a legitimate reason evades her.

“We haven’t told anyone else yet,” Bellamy supplies and Clarke nods in agreement though she was only half listening.

“Fair enough,” Roan nods. “Echo and I are going to stroll around for a while. Care to join us?”

“I think we’d like to head back to the hotel,” Bellamy says. “If you know what I mean.” He and Roan share a look that says _I’m getting lucky tonight,_ though Clarke suspects neither of them will be if the way Echo rolls her eyes is any indication.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Clarke,” Roan nods. “Goodnight.” He takes Echo’s hand and leads her off into the night, leaving Bellamy and Clarke to fend for themselves.

They manage to find a taxi and make it back to the hotel, neither of them saying a word, though Clarke has a million things she wants to ask him. Number one: _what the fuck?_

She manages to keep her mouth shut until she’s lying in bed, Bellamy on the floor on the other side.

“Do you think Echo’s mad you kissed me?” she whispers into the dark.

“No,” Bellamy whispers back. “She’s got a husband, it’s not like we’re exclusive.”

“Are you in love with her?” A silence.

“No. Does that make it better or worse?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke says honestly. Can anything make cheating better? “Why bother if you’re not in love though? She’s clearly still in love with her husband, and you could have anyone you want.” He’s silent again and Clarke wonders if he’s pretending to be asleep so he doesn’t have to answer.

“She loves him,” Bellamy agrees. “But he works a lot. And she likes variety. She was never meant to be monogamous.”

“So why get married?” Clarke says exasperatedly.

“You got me,” Bellamy sighs. “Do you think less of me now you know about me and Echo?”

“A little,” she admits.

“I hate that,” Bellamy says softly. Clarke doesn’t reply for a while, though she still has plenty to ask him. _What’s in it for you? Don’t you care about Roan’s feelings? Why did you kiss me?_ But she can’t bring herself to say any of it.

“You can sleep in the bed tonight if you want,” she says instead. Bellamy doesn’t respond, but after a beat she hears him get up and pad to the bed, then she feels his weight on the mattress beside her. She assumes the conversation is done then, they both fall into silence, but after a few minutes Bellamy speaks again.

“I should’ve told you earlier,” he whispers. “But you looked really nice tonight.” Clarke pretends to be asleep so she doesn’t have to answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few people said they're really uncomfortable with cheating, and I'm really sorry about that. I obviously don't condone cheating, but I just got inspired and wanted to write this. I hope you guys think the ending is alright, I rewrote it a couple of times to try and get it right.

Clarke assumes things will go back to normal once they’re back home. Things do not.

Bellamy insists they have to keep pretending they’re a couple, at least for a little while. He says it doesn’t make sense for them to break up as soon as they’re back from Paris, and Roan will get suspicious. Clarke agrees reluctantly, under the impression they won’t ever actually have to prove it.

Of course, Roan doesn’t actually give a shit as long as their “relationship” doesn’t interfere with their work, and Echo knows it isn’t real, so Clarke thinks they’re in the clear. They’ll just give it a couple of weeks and then Clarke will casually mention to Roan that it didn’t work out between her and Bellamy and they’ve decided to go back to being friends. What she doesn’t count on is Bellamy being a complete idiot.

First he convinces her to keep pretending to be his girlfriend.

“Please, Clarke,” he begs her. Roan has decided he doesn’t need her this afternoon so she’s helping at reception and Bellamy is supposed to be picking Roan up to take him to an appointment, but Roan is running late.

“You said it would only be a little while,” Clarke hisses, glancing and the other person working reception to make sure he isn’t listening. “It’s been two weeks. I’m breaking up with you.”

“You don’t even have to do anything,” Bellamy protests. “You just have to not tell Roan we’re broken up. It’s actually _more_ effort to stop pretending.”

“This isn’t convincing,” she tells him flatly.

“Look. It’s not going to be forever. It’s just until Echo and I are done. It’s not like you’re seeing anyone else, and Roan’s never going to suspect me and Echo if he thinks I’m with you.”

“I don’t want to help Echo cheat on her husband,” Clarke says through gritted teeth. They really shouldn’t be discussing this here.

“You’re not helping Echo. You’re just giving me an alibi should Roan find out Echo is cheating on him,” Bellamy corrects her.

“Why are you acting like you don’t have any accountability in this?” Clarke snaps. “Maybe you’re not the one cheating, but that doesn’t rid you of all blame. Don’t you care about Roan at all?”

“I do,” Bellamy sighs. “I know what I’m doing is wrong. I’m not _proud_ of it. It’s just…” he stops, unsure how to continue. “If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. And…” he trails off again. “It’s only temporary.” Clarke screws up her nose. She doesn’t miss the fact that he still doesn’t tell her exactly what _his_ reasons are. He only ever mentions Echo. She’s sure he must have his own reasons, but whatever they are, he’s not giving anything away.

She doesn’t want to condone this. But then he’s giving her a hopeful look and somehow she can’t bring herself to let him down. Besides, she’s not the one doing the wrong thing, they are. She’s just protecting a friend.

“Fine,” she sighs dramatically. “But on the condition that _should_ he find out about you and Echo, I never knew about it. Deal?”

“Deal,” Bellamy grins. She expects him to go away after that but he just keeps grinning at her.

“I have work to do Bellamy,” she hints.

“Okay, see you later, babe,” he winks. Clarke rolls her eyes,

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you? Sweetheart? Darling? Sugar? Snookums?”

“No.”

“Peaches?”

“Roan’s here,” she nods towards the elevator.

“Peaches it is!” Bellamy says, a little too pleased with himself. Roan strides over and Bellamy nods at him. “Sir.”

“I’m going to miss my appointment if we don’t hurry up,” Roan says in annoyance, as if he’s the one that’s been waiting around for twenty minutes.

“Yes, sir,” Bellamy nods again, heading towards the front doors. “See you later, Peaches!” he calls back to Clarke and she flushes as Roan gives her an amused look.

“Bye, Kitten!” Clarke calls back. Roan gives a snort of laughter and Bellamy almost trips over his own feet.

-

For the next couple of weeks, it’s the easiest relationship she’s ever had. No deciding whose place to stay at, no fighting over what to watch on Netflix and no subtle but awkward hints that she needs some alone time. She stops giving Bellamy subtle reminders that he’s being a shitty person. He’s a grown man, he can make his own decisions.

Roan never asks about her love life, so she never has to pretend she’s been seeing Bellamy outside of work, and since no one else knows about the faux relationship other than Echo, she doesn’t have to discuss it with any friends or family members.

It’s also the most depressing relationship she’s ever had, and that’s including the time she was dating a guy who already had a girlfriend. Which is totally different from Bellamy’s situation, seeing as Clarke never actually _knew_ Finn had a girlfriend. Still, it’s actually a little surprising Bellamy never brought it up when she was interrogating him about his relationship with Echo. He definitely _knows_ about it, seeing as she cried about it in the car on the way to pick up Roan once.

But as depressing as that whole fiasco was, she at least got the benefits of an actual relationship while she was with Finn. Sex, for example. Dates. Someone to hang out with. Someone to bring her chocolate when she was on her period, someone to rant to about Game of Thrones. She gets none of that with Bellamy. Instead she gets the overwhelming guilt of lying to her boss, a sense of hopeless pining over a man who doesn’t actually want her, and a patronising pet name. And to be honest she could deal with being called Peaches every now and again if was saying it as he kissed her good morning. Or at least brought her some fucking coffee when he comes to pick her up for work in the morning.

Neither of those things happen. Instead what happens is he asks her for another favour.

“My sister thinks I’m seeing someone,” he tells her as he drives her to work. Technically he’s Roan’s driver but since Roan lives at his place of work he doesn’t exactly need driving there.

“You kind of are,” Clarke points out, though she hates to be reminded of it.

“She wants to meet her,” he continues, and Clarke should probably wonder why he doesn’t sound particularly worried about this development.

“I knew this would come back to bite you one day,” she gloats. “How is your sister going to feel when you tell her your girlfriend is a married woman?”

“Can’t say she’d be impressed,” Bellamy agrees, and he still doesn’t sound at all concerned. “Which is why I didn’t tell her that Echo’s my girlfriend.”

“What exactly did you tell her then?” Clarke asks, and she has the distinct feeling she isn’t going to like the answer.

“I told her you were my girlfriend.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says warningly. She knows where this is headed now, and she’s going to be mad if he asks her to meet his sister. She’ll do it, of course, because she’s pathetic. But she won’t be happy about it.

“I told her we’d have dinner with her this Friday,” he says, and he at least has the decency to sound a little guilty. “I’m really sorry!” he says quickly, before Clarke can berate him. “I panicked, and we were already pretending to date so it just sort of popped out.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I get it if you don’t want to do it. But will you?” he asks, hesitant. Clarke closes her eyes. They’re almost at the hotel, and if they can make it there without her answering she might be able to just run away and let her silence be her answer.

“I’ll do it, but you better start bringing me coffee.” But honestly, Bellamy’s beaming face at her answer would have been reward enough.

-

Getting ready for the dinner with Bellamy’s sister is stressful to say the least. She tries on seven different outfits before she decides on the first one she tried on. She’s going for sexy and sophisticated with a dash of I-want-to-have-your-brother’s-babies. The last part is less to do with the outfit and more to do with the fact that she actually does want to have his babies and she’s having more and more trouble hiding the fact.

She’s meeting the Blakes at the restaurant so she nervously makes her way there alone, then stands outside the restaurant for five minutes willing herself to go in. It’s not just that she’s nervous about trying to convince Bellamy’s sister that they’re a couple. It’s whether she should be trying to do it in the first place. Do they really need to bring more people into this horrible sham?

“Not sure if you’re in the right place?” some random lady asks.

“I’m in the right place,” Clarke assures her. “I think.” The woman nods and heads into the restaurant and Clarke takes a deep breath and follows her in. She spots Bellamy as soon as she walks in, the woman he’s with presumably his sister, and next to her must be her husband.

“I’m with them,” she points to his table before the greeter can say anything. He nods and Clarke heads over to the table. The butterflies in her stomach only get worse as Bellamy spots her and stands up. She’s planning to go in for a hug, but he gives her a soft kiss instead, and she does her best to act natural though she can feel her face heat up.

“Cute,” his sister says and it’s only then that Bellamy seems to remember they aren’t alone.

“Right, uh, Clarke, this is my sister, Octavia, and her husband, Lincoln. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Clarke,” he introduces, and Clarke hates how good it sounds.

“Nice to meet you, Clarke,” Octavia smiles.

“Likewise,” Clarke returns and she and Bellamy sit down.

The rest of the night runs surprisingly smoothly. Clarke allows Bellamy to take the lead, and just agrees with whatever lies he makes up about their relationship. He’s just as good at acting as he was the night with Roan and Echo, and when his hand lands on her thigh for a moment, out of sight of Octavia and Lincoln, she wonders if maybe he’s forgotten that she’s not actually his girlfriend.

In any case, Octavia and Lincoln seem to fall for it and Octavia decides to accompany Clarke to the bathroom after dinner.

“He really likes you, you know,” Octavia says as they wash their hands side by side.

“I really like him too,” Clarke says, and it’s not even a lie.

“No, like he _really_ likes you,” Octavia says meaningfully, though Clarke doesn’t catch what the meaning is. She kind of assumes Bellamy has mentioned Echo a few times around Octavia, without actually going into detail, and that maybe he likes Echo more than he’s let on.

“Does he talk about me a lot?” she asks, meaning, does he talk about _Echo_ a lot.

“A bit,” Octavia shrugs. “But that’s not how I know. I can just tell. I always know when he’s close to telling a girl he loves her.”

“ _Love_?” Clarke chokes out.

“Yeah, fair warning. He’s definitely going to tell you soon. So you might want to have a response prepared,” Octavia warns her.

“How do you know?” Clarke squeaks.

“How do you _not_ know?” Octavia scoffs. “His fucking heart eyes are so obvious they make me sick.” Clarke wants to tell her she’s wrong. He doesn’t have any heart eyes because he’s still sleeping with Echo. And maybe he doesn’t love Echo, but if he loved Clarke then he’d be with her for real, not living in this ridiculous charade. But obviously she can’t say any of that to Octavia.

“Okay, I’ll be ready,” she says instead, smiling as if she and Octavia are sharing a private joke. Octavia seems satisfied and leads them back out to the table.

Bellamy drives her home after dinner, and it’s probably a bad idea, but she invites him inside.

“Just to hang out,” she clarifies. “We never spend any time together outside of work.” Bellamy hesitates then nods his assent, unbuckling his seatbelt and following her inside. She pours him a glass of wine and turns on the TV and Field of Dreams is on.

“If you build it, they will come,” Bellamy quotes solemnly.

“That’s not the quote,” Clarke informs him. “It’s if you build it, _he_ will come. Meaning his father.”

“You’re a nerd,” Bellamy tells her.

“Oh, says the guy who can quote the entire opening monologue from V for Vendetta. Not to mention that time you spent the better part of an hour about different types of battle armour,” Clarke scoffs.

“There’s more where that came from,” he grins. “You think that’s nerdy? I can name every single Roman Emperor.”

“Kuzco,” Clarke guesses, purposefully trying to wind him up.

“That’s the llama from The Emperor’s New Groove,” he huffs, and Clarke can’t help but laugh at how much of an old man he sounds like. “And that’s clearly Peruvian.”

“If you say so,” Clarke grins. There’s a silence then and they go back to watching the movie until Bellamy speaks again.

“You think we fooled them?” he asks, clearly referring to Octavia and Lincoln.

“I _know_ we fooled them,” Clarke smirks, then she remembers exactly what Octavia had said and her smile falters a little. “You should have heard what Octavia said. It’s pretty funny actually,” she forces herself to sound amused.

“Oh?”

“She said she was certain you were going to confess your love to me in the near future,” Clarke grins. Bellamy grins back, thought he doesn’t laugh out loud.

“Guess we got her good,” he says, then turns back to the movie again.

-

Of course, they can’t fake break up after that. Bellamy says Octavia’s already become attached, a fact which Clarke well knows because apparently Bellamy gave his sister her number and Octavia has no boundaries and no qualms about double or quadruple texting someone.

Clarke doesn’t really mind, in fact she finds it kind of endearing. She likes Octavia a lot, and she likes Lincoln, and worst of all, she likes Bellamy. And the longer they pretend to be together, the more he starts acting like her actual boyfriend. He starts bringing her coffee like he promised, but he also brings her flowers and the casual touches that he’d practiced during the dinners they’d had with Roan and Echo and Octavia and Lincoln become commonplace. Brushing a hair behind her ear, placing a hand on the small of her back. It’s a sweet kind of torture.

Plus the hanging out outside of work continues, and the more she finds out about him, the more she likes him. Apart from the sleeping with a married woman thing, which she assumes he’s still doing seeing as he hasn’t said they can stop pretending to be together.

She manages to keep it up for another month. That’s two whole months of desperate pining, of replaying the times he’d kissed her in her mind, fantasising about him doing it again. Of battling with her better judgement, deep down knowing she shouldn’t be doing this. After two months she decides she can’t do it anymore. They have to stop before it gets anymore out of hand. Before her mom finds out and gets all excited and starts planning her a wedding.

“Bellamy, I can’t do this anymore,” she tells him firmly as he drives her home from work. “We have to fake break up.” She glances at him to gauge his reaction. He looks… resigned. Like he knew it was coming but didn’t want to admit it to himself.

“Okay,” he agrees.

“You’ll tell Octavia?” Clarke ensures.

“I’ll tell her,” he agrees.

“We don’t even have to tell Roan. He won’t even notice but if the topic comes up I’ll just casually mention we broke up,” Clarke shrugs. “That way you still kind of have an alibi for Echo for a little while.” Bellamy frowns for a moment, looking a little confused.

“Right. Echo,” he finally nods. “Thanks for covering for me. For doing all that. I know you didn’t want to. Still don’t know how I managed to convince you,” he grins and Clarke smiles with him.

“About that,” she says. “Why did you never bring up Finn and Raven? When you were trying to get me to see it differently?”

“You really think I’d throw that in your face?” he says, surprised. “Come on, Clarke. That was completely different, we both know that.” Clarke nods, feeling like she could kiss him. “Besides, there’s plenty of other stuff I could have mentioned, but I didn’t need to, did I? You helped me anyway. ‘Cause we’re friends.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees.

The thing is about fake break ups, is they actually feel a lot like real break ups. It’s dumb, because Clarke never really had him to begin with, but it feels like she’s lost something anyway and she has to keep reminding herself she doesn’t actually have anything to be upset about. _It wasn’t real_.

Octavia stops texting her a few days later and Clarke supposes Bellamy told his sister they broke up. Good. It’s a weight off her shoulders, honestly. She wonders what Bellamy said, if he made it sound like Clarke broke up with him or that is was mutual. She doesn’t really want Octavia to hate her.

She and Bellamy stop hanging out outside of work as well, both claiming they’re too busy. Which Clarke is, since she has to help organise a party for Roan to celebrate the announcement of the new hotel he’s opening in Paris. The contracts have been signed and the property has been purchased, so he’s decided it’s time for a celebration, where he can reveal his plans to the rest of the employees and the investors.

“Have you double checked with the caterers that there are vegan options?” Roan asks her. He’s been firing off questions at her about the party non-stop for the past two days, seeing as the event is tomorrow night. He’s asked the same questions over and over, but Clarke is happy to humour him.

“Triple checked,” she assures him.

“And our French guests have the best rooms in the hotel?”

“Of course,” she nods.

“Did you help Echo pick out what to wear?”

“I tried.”

“Okay,” Roan nods, and it seems like he’s done for the time being, but Clarke knows he’ll remember something else in twenty minutes.

“You and Bellamy can have the night off, of course,” Roan tells her. “I want you to enjoy yourselves.”

“Oh, uh,” Clarke says awkwardly. “Bellamy and I broke up.” Roan laughs. Not exactly the reaction one expects when informing someone of a break up.

“Good one,” he says. “Just make sure he does something with that hair of his, okay?” Roan tells her before striding out of his office with another laugh. Clarke stands there dumbly, wondering what just happened.

“Roan doesn’t believe we broke up,” Clarke tells Bellamy later that day while Bellamy waits for Roan to come down from his office. He’s supposed to be taking him to the airport to pick up the last of the French investors, but apparently the most important.

“Yeah, I had a similar problem with Octavia,” Bellamy rolls his eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Clarke huffs. “People break up.”

“Apparently we were so good at acting that people think we’re perfect for each other,” Bellamy says in amusement.

“How did you convince Octavia?”

“First I told her I broke up with you. She didn’t believe me. Then I told her you cheated on me. She didn’t believe me. Then I had to tell her we were so in love that you got scared and ran off,” Bellamy recounts.

“And she believed that?”

“No.”

“So what did you end up telling her?” Clarke presses. She needs to figure out to convince Roan she’s not dating Bellamy anymore. Bellamy sighs.

“The truth,” he shrugs. “I told her we were never really dating and that none of it was real.”

“And what did she say?” Clarke asks, astonished.

“Well, she mostly believed me,” Bellamy says wryly, and he pauses, seemingly about to say more, but then Roan walks into the lobby.

“Look, I think it will just be easier if we go to this thing together tomorrow night,” Clarke says quickly, before Roan can reach them. “I’ll try and convince him some other time.” Bellamy nods.

“I’ll pick you up,” he tells her.

“Let’s go!” Roan calls as he strides past and Bellamy gives Clarke a small shake of his head and hurries after his boss.

-

Honestly, Clarke secretly loves fancy parties. Of course, she’d never let her mother know that, but she likes dressing up and maybe the people are kind of snobbish most of the time, but that makes it all the more fun to make fun of them behind their backs with whoever she manages to drag along. On this particular occasion, Bellamy is all too happy to oblige.

“That guy’s face is the same colour as his tie,” Clarke points out to Bellamy.

“I think his tie is more blue than purple,” Bellamy muses. “What about him? Fake hair?”

“Definitely. And his wife’s boobs are also fake. In fact I’m having trouble locating any part of either of them that’s actually real,” Clarke laughs.

“Ah, well I guess we can’t judge. Fake is our specialty,” Bellamy grins. A waiter whizzes by and Clarke manages to grab a couple of glasses of champagne from him, handing one to Bellamy.

“To things that are fake,” she says by way of a toast. Bellamy shakes his head in amusement, clinking his glass with hers.

“Enjoying the party?” Roan saunters over. Echo is nowhere to be seen.

“Yes sir,” Bellamy nods. “We were just trying to work out if that man’s tie was blue or purple.” Roan looks over.

“Purple,” he decides. “Same colour as his face.” Clarke gives Bellamy an I-told-you-so smirk and he rolls his eyes. “I’m going to give my speech soon, so make sure you have full glasses so you can toast my success,” Roan instructs them before weaving his way back through the crowd again. A minute later he’s taken to the stage and Clarke swears she’s listening to him, but after he’s finished she can’t remember a single thing he’s said.

“To old friends and new adventures!” Roan finishes, raising his glass. Clarke copies his motion and downs the rest of her champagne.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she tells Bellamy, handing him her empty glass and making her way towards the bathroom. The stalls are all empty bar one, seeing as most people were out in the hotel ballroom listening to Roan’s speech, so Clarke takes her pick and it’s only when she’s sitting on the toilet does she realise how drunk she is. She hears a toilet flush a couple of stalls over and two seconds later she’s flushing her own, stepping out of the cubicle to see Echo washing her hands. Clarke does her best to keep her face impassive and her voice polite.

“You missed Roan’s speech,” Clarke tells her.

“Did I?” Echo says. “Shit.” She sounds genuinely concerned, but Clarke just scoffs.

“Like you care.”

“He’s my husband, of course I care,” Echo snaps.

“If you care so much why are you cheating on him?” Clarke hisses. She’d probably have the sense not to confront Echo if she wasn’t so drunk, but as it is she’s ready to speak her mind. Echo snorts.

“Look, I get it,” she says, a little patronisingly. “You’re jealous because I fucked you’re boyfriend before you did.”

“That’s not it at all,” Clarke huffs. “Roan’s my boss and my friend. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” Echo studies Clarke for a moment, then her sneering mask seems to fall.

“Fair enough,” she says, glancing down. “I talked to him,” Echo says. “We’ve agreed we can see other people. An open marriage if you will.”

“He’s okay with it?” Clarke asks in astonishment. She’s not surprised that Roan would agree to it, she’s just surprised Echo had the decency to talk to him at all.

“He suggested it,” Echo tells her. Clarke nods.

“You told him about Bellamy then?” Clarke assumes. Echo gives her a look of horror.

“God no,” she grimaces. “I didn’t tell Roan I cheated on him. Besides that ended weeks ago and you and Bellamy seem happy now, so--,”

“Wait, what?” Clarke cuts her off.

“Look, Roan may be understanding but he wouldn’t be impressed if I found out I cheated,” Echo huffs.

“Not what I meant,” Clarke says. “You ended things with Bellamy weeks ago?”

“I mean, he was the one who ended it, but yeah,” Echo confirms. “Just after Paris I think it was. Did he not tell you?”

“No he did not,” Clarke says, more to herself than to Echo, before turning on her heel and sweeping from the bathroom. Her head spins as she marches purposefully through the ballroom, towards Bellamy, and it’s not from alcohol this time. In fact she’s sobered up completely in the last two minutes. He ended things with Echo weeks ago. So why the _fuck_ was she pretending to be his girlfriend all this time?

“I need to talk to you,” she says evenly when she reaches him, grabbing him by the arm. Somehow her voice comes out steady though her hands are shaking. Bellamy murmurs an apology to the people he was speaking to before Clarke leads him out of the room and into the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asks her, visibly concerned.

“Did you end things with Echo after Paris?” she asks. Better to get straight to it. Bellamy looks uncomfortable, and that’s proof enough but she waits for him to answer anyway.

“Yes,” he finally admits.

“What the fuck, Bellamy?” she cries. She’s angry and hurt and confused.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get this far,” he says defensively.

“Was this all some stupid game for you? Let’s see how fucking dumb Clarke is? Let’s see how much she’ll do for me, how far I can push her,” Clarke spits.

“No--,” Bellamy starts but Clarke isn’t having any of it.

“I can’t _believe_ I trusted you,” Clarke shakes her head in disbelief. At her own actions and at his. “I really thought we were friends, but I guess I’m just a big joke to you.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy pleads, and Clarke can’t look at him because those deep brown eyes will suck her in with their soft desperation, but she knows by now how good at acting he is. “Let me explain.”

“There is nothing you can say that will make this any better,” she says, her words laced with a venom she didn’t even know she had. Bellamy flinches.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.” She expects him to say more, to try and explain, but he doesn’t and it catches her off guard. She realises she kind of _wants_ an explanation. And it will probably be stupid and unforgiveable but she deserves it nonetheless.

“Is that it?” she snaps. Bellamy hesitates.

“I never told you why I was sleeping with Echo,” he says, glancing at Clarke cautiously. “The truth is I… I needed something temporary. Something that was never going to be anything more. She initiated it, and I guess I felt like that relationship represented how I saw my life. Like it belonged to someone else.” He pauses to see if Clarke is still with him. She understands what he’s saying, but she doesn’t see how this explains why he lied to her.

“I didn’t want to start something with someone I really liked while I was living a life I didn’t. I didn’t feel like I deserved that until I actually made something of myself.” he explains further. Clarke tries to ignore the way her heart squeezes at that. “But then you found out and you said it made you think less of me and I knew you were right, and what I was doing was selfish and wrong, so I broke it off.”

“None of that explains why you decided we had to continue to pretend to be a couple,” Clarke points out.

“I know. The truth is, I wanted to ask you out ages ago,” he admits. The words aren’t as satisfying as Clarke would have imagined. “Before I started sleeping with Echo. But like I said my life wasn’t right yet and I wasn’t ready to date someone I actually liked. And I got it in my head that we could just pretend for a while until I got my shit sorted out and I could spend time with you and stuff without leading you on or bringing you into my mess of a life,” he sighs.

“That’s really fucked up.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But uh, Octavia was right. I’m in love with you,” he says, and it should make her happy but instead it just feels wrong. Clarke shakes her head slowly. She’s less mad now, but she’s still hurt and confused.

“How can I believe you?” she says, and she hears her voice crack. She’s not going to cry in front of him, she’s not.

“I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Clarke nods, her voice barely a whisper.

“I know you hate me, I don’t blame you. But believe me, you could never hate me as much as I hate myself,” he laughs humourlessly. Clarke thinks he’s probably right, and with nothing more to say she gives him a nod and decides it’s time to go home.

“I really am sorry, Clarke,” he calls after her.

-

As mad as she is at Bellamy for lying to her, she’s even angrier at herself. After all, she made the decision to help him. She let her feelings for him get in the way of her better judgement and she’s paying the consequences.

She’s planning on taking a taxi to work on Monday, and she’s surprised to see the black sedan on the street outside her apartment. Does Bellamy really think she’s ready to see him after what happened?

She walks over to the car cautiously and the window rolls down. She peers in to find that it isn’t Bellamy behind the wheel at all and she wonders if this isn’t Roan’s car at all.

“Clarke Griffin?” the driver asks.

“Yes…” Clarke says warily.

“I’m Miller. Roan’s new driver,” he tells her.

“Oh,” Clarke says. She wonders what happened to Bellamy, but she doesn’t want to ask, so she just gets into the car and lets Miller drive her to the hotel.

She goes to Roan’s office immediately when she arrives, knocking on the door lightly before entering, even though it’s open. Roan looks up and gives her a look she can’t quite decipher. Somewhere between sorrow and anger, and maybe even a little pity. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept properly, and his normally neatly tied back hair hangs around his face. He gestures for Clarke to come and sit opposite him and Clarke hurries to do as he wishes.

“What’s going on?” Clarke asks. “What happened to Bellamy?” Roan’s face contorts at the mention of Bellamy’s name and Clarke’s stomach drops. She’s so dead.

“I guess he didn’t tell you,” Roan says flippantly. “I fired him.” He pauses. “I’m really sorry to tell you this but he’s been cheating on you. With my wife.”

“What?”

“He told me yesterday morning. Naturally I couldn’t keep him around,” Roan says matter-of-factly. “Echo will also be leaving as soon as possible.”  He glances at Clarke who still hasn’t said anything. Honestly, she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. Bellamy told Roan the truth. Well, most of the truth. “I’m sorry,” Roan says, gentler than before. Clarke nods, swallowing.

“Thanks,” she says, and she’s about to stand up and go, relieved her part in the deception hasn’t been revealed. But then she realises that if she doesn’t tell Roan the truth then she’s no better than Bellamy and Echo. In fact she’d be worse than Bellamy, because he’d actually owned up to what he’d done and faced the consequences. She was an accomplice, and she realises now that what she did was just as bad as what Bellamy did.

“He didn’t cheat on me,” she blurts out.

“Clarke,” Roan says pityingly, as if he thinks she’s in denial.

“We were never together,” she admits. “I—,” she falters, then takes a deep breath. “I knew Echo and Bellamy were sleeping together. I promised not to tell and I pretended to be Bellamy’s girlfriend so you wouldn’t suspect.”

Roan stares at her, his face impassive. He doesn’t yell at her, doesn’t fire her. He doesn’t even really say anything except, “okay.” Clarke hovers, waiting for him to say something more. To tell her how she let him down, how disappointed he is with her. “You can go now,” is all he says. Clarke stands and turns to go but she reconsiders, turning back to him.

“Aren’t you mad?” she asks. Roan shrugs.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” he shakes his head. “Of course I’m mad. You should’ve told me. But you already know that.” Clarke nods. “Besides, I understand. People can make stupid decisions when they’re in love.”

“Like lie to people they care about,” Clarke says flatly. She’s talking about herself, but she’s thinking about Bellamy too.

“Or get married,” Roan snorts. Clarke grins.

“Do you think you and Echo will work things out?” she asks. Roan raises an eyebrow.

“Not sure there’s much point,” he sighs. “I obviously can’t trust her.” Clarke nods, looking down at her hands, knowing he’s right. You can’t build a relationship with someone you can’t trust. Roan seems to sense what she’s thinking. “What Echo did isn’t the same as what Bellamy did,” he tells her. Clarke looks up.

“He lied to me for almost two months. He let me believe he and Echo were still sleeping together so I’d continue pretending to be his girlfriend,” Clarke tells Roan, and he winces.

“Look, I’m not Bellamy’s biggest fan, obviously. But I also don’t think he set out to hurt anyone,” Roan shrugs. “I’m not saying you should give him a second chance. I’m just saying maybe don’t write him off just yet.”

-

Clarke thinks about Roan’s words a lot over the next week. It’s radio silence from Bellamy, which is what she wanted, but at the same time she wishes just a little bit that he’d call to check on her.

She dithers over whether or not to call him. She doesn’t entirely forgive him. But she knows she _can_ forgive him, and he deserves to know that. And she goes to bed and she thinks about him until she falls asleep, and she thinks about him while she’s working and while she’s cooking and while she’s watching Field of Dreams and she knows she’ll never be satisfied until she works things out with him.

She gets Miller to drop her off at Bellamy’s apartment after work one night, instead of her own, and as the driver speeds away Clarke stares at the intercom, willing herself to press the buzzer.

“You okay, dear?” a woman asks, coming up beside her.

“Yeah,” Clarke assures her.

“Who are you here to see?”

“Bellamy Blake,” she says.

“Oh, he lives across the hall from me, come on,” the woman says, letting Clarke into the building. The woman prattles on as she leads Clarke into the elevator and up to the third floor, but Clarke isn’t really listening, except when she finally says, “that’s Bellamy’s apartment there.” Clarke walks slowly to the door while the woman goes into her own apartment.

Bellamy’s door is slightly ajar and Clarke peers through the crack as she knocks, jumping back when she hears footsteps coming towards her. He’s obviously not expecting her. He freezes when he sees her and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Clarke,” he manages to croak. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns, her stomach churning. He looks good despite his recent unemployment. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” he nods, standing aside to let her in. She glances around as she walks in, noting the boxes placed around the room. The walls and shelves are all bare.

“Are you moving?” she asks, surprised, turning back to him as he shuts the front door.

“Yeah,” he says. “With Octavia and Lincoln for a while, until college starts in the fall.”

“You’re finally going,” she smiles, feeling proud of him.

“Yeah,” Bellamy smiles bashfully. “I figured now was a good time. I’ll try to get a part time job while I’m studying.”

“That’s… great, Bellamy,” Clarke says honestly. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So,” Clarke says. “I obviously didn’t come just to catch up.”

“Right,” Bellamy nods, his jaw tight.

“Roan told me you came clean,” Clarke informs him.

“Seemed like it was time,” Bellamy shrugs. “Echo hates me now though.”

“She’ll get over it,” Clarke snorts. “She made her own bed.” Bellamy nods in agreement. “Thanks for not telling him I was involved.”

“That was the deal,” he reminds her.

“I told him myself,” she admits. “He deserved the truth.” Bellamy nods. He studies her carefully, still not entirely sure why she’s come. “Bellamy,” Clarke says, almost ominously and she doesn’t blame him for the way his shoulders tense. “All that stuff you said at the party… did you mean it?”

“I meant every word,” he says firmly. “And I feel like such an idiot for how I handled things. I’m sorry.” Clarke nods.

“I don’t entirely forgive you,” she says. “But I’m getting there.”

“Okay,” Bellamy says, still watching her.

“So, you’re going to college,” Clarke muses, looking in a nearby box. “Does this mean you’re ready to have someone you actually like in your life?”

“Theoretically,” Bellamy replies, swallowing. Clarke looks back up from the box.

“And you like me, right?” she ascertains. A smile twitches at the corners of Bellamy’s lips.

“I like you,” he confirms.

“Do I recall you saying you might even be in love with me?” Clarke continues.

“That sounds like something I would say,” Bellamy agrees. “Are you saying you’d like to be in my life?”

“Would you like me in it?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy breathes. “I’d like that a lot.” Clarke breaks out into a grin and Bellamy laughs in relief, the tension draining out of him. He reaches for her but she quickly stops him.

“I’m still mad at you,” she reminds him.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, but he doesn’t stop grinning. “Will you let me know when you’ve stopped being mad? Because I’d really like to kiss you.” Clarke rolls her eyes but she’s unable to control the smirk on her face.

“How about I pretend I’m not mad, just for like, half an hour,” she suggests.

“If you’re sure,” Bellamy says, and Clarke is already pulling him in, brushing her lips against his and he kisses her like he kissed her in Paris, holding her like he never wants to let her go, and she feels like maybe she should have realised then that it was never really fake at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an anon on tumblr asked for a follow up where clarke runs into finn or something and basically gets antsy about being cheated on and then bellamy (probably self-loathingly) reassures her that he would never do that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You also can find me on tumblr @keiraknighted

Things are going good with Bellamy. Clarke trusts him, even if she doesn’t entirely forgive him yet. She knows deep down he never wanted to hurt her, and he knows what he did was wrong, and she thinks he probably doesn’t ever expect to be forgiven, which helps somehow. She knows she’ll forgive him eventually, but these things take time and it’s only been a few weeks.

Things with Roan are better too, he seems to have forgiven her, or at least he’s too busy to remind her what a shitty thing she did, keeping his wife’s affair from him. He seems to have thrown himself even further into his work in the wake of Echo’s betrayal and departure, and Clarke knows it’s just a coping mechanism, but at least he’s not wallowing and moping over someone who clearly didn’t care that much about him.

In any case, Roan has his hands full with making progress on the Paris Hotel, and Clarke is left to pick up the slack around the home office. There’s a function on in the main ballroom tonight, a wedding reception, and Clarke is freaking out about it slightly. Not only because there doesn’t seem to be enough chairs for the amount of guests there are, but also because one of the brides is Raven Reyes, the woman who had turned out to be dating Finn Collins a year and a half ago, at the same time as Clarke.

Of course, Clarke and Raven hadn’t blamed each other, and had made their peace. It was Finn who was the scumbag. But Clarke hasn’t seen the woman since and she doesn’t even know if Raven knows that Clarke is involved with the wedding. She’s been dealing with the other bride, Gina Martin. Gina claims she’s very laid back normally, but Clarke is yet to see that side of her. Weddings tend to bring out the manic side of people. Clarke is determined that if she ever gets married it’s going to be a pool party with a barbecue and a grocery store mud cake.

Finally she manages to get some more chairs rounded up, and just in time as the first of the guests start to arrive. She’s pleased with herself that it all came together so nicely and she hopes the brides are just as pleased.

Clarke doesn’t pay much attention to the guests that walk into the ballroom, figuring she isn’t likely to know any of them. She just stands out of the way keeping an eye on things, making sure the kitchen staff and bar staff are ready to go. So she’s taken completely unawares when a ghost from her past comes up to her, giving her that lopsided grin that used to make her knees go weak.

“Hey, Princess,” he says, and even his voice makes her sick to her stomach. She’d never liked that nickname, although she’d let him call her that while they were dating. It seemed sweet at the time, but now it’s like a punch to the stomach.

“Finn,” she says flatly. “What are you doing here?”

“Raven invited me,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We’re friends now.” Clarke can’t imagine ever being friends with someone who cheated on her, but Raven has always been a better person than Clarke. She knows Roan would sooner stab himself in the eye than be friends with Echo again. Though he might invite her to his wedding if he ever got married again, just to spit in her face.

“Okay, well I’d love to chat,” she lies. “But I’m working. Maybe you should go and find your seat.”

“Alright,” Finn winks and Clarke wants to slap his stupid smirk off his smarmy face. “I’ll find you later.” Clarke sincerely hopes he does not.

Clarke tries to forget she ever saw Finn by keeping busy, but honestly once the reception is underway there isn’t all that much for her to do except yell at the kitchen staff, and the head chef seems to have that under control.

She retreats to the reception desk, figuring she’ll just be in the way if she hangs around the ballroom. She’s only required to stay another hour anyway, and then it’s someone else’s problem.

She’s only got fifteen minutes left when Finn ambushes her. He saunters out into the lobby, looking around, obviously for Clarke. She wants to hide, but she knows that’s not the mature thing to do. Not that Finn deserves her maturity.

“There you are!” he says when he spots her, and he makes a beeline toward her. “Thought maybe you’d run out on me,” he jokes. Clarke doesn’t even crack a smile. The sick feeling has returned and there’s nothing less appealing than having to stand here and be polite to the guy who lied to her and used her and cheated on her, and then had the nerve to act like she’d hurt _him_ by breaking up with him.

“Just have work to do,” she says, a clear dismissal. Finn doesn’t take the hint.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” Finn says.

“Oh?” Clarke says, feigning interest, feeling the seconds drag on.

“I thought maybe we could catch up,” he suggests and Clarke can’t hide the look of disgusted incredulity that passes over her face. “What?” Finn says, noticing her expression. She can’t entirely blame him for being clueless. She never did get to say all the things she wanted to say to him. And he always was under the delusional impression that he was the good guy.

“Look Finn, just because Raven has forgiven you doesn’t mean I have,” she says firmly.

“Aw, come on, Clarke, don’t be like that,” Finn pouts. Clarke can’t believe she ever found him attractive.

“Be like that?” Clarke huffs. “You broke my heart, Finn. You made me think I meant something to you when all the time you were stringing me along, making me the other woman. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?” Her hands are shaking and her heart is in her throat, but somehow she manages to get the words out.

“I apologised for that,” Finn reminds her.

“You were only sorry that you got caught,” Clarke spits and Finn flinches, but he doesn’t deny it. Clarke glances at the time on her computer screen. She’s still supposed to stay another ten minutes, but she can’t bear to be there a second longer. “I’m out of here,” she says, grabbing her handbag from underneath the desk. “Don’t bother calling me, Finn.” She doesn’t look back as she strides out of the hotel, even when Finn calls out her name pathetically. She’s still shaking, partly from anger, partly from the anxiety of having to face Finn. She really never thought she’d have to see him again.

The car is waiting for her when she walks out of the hotel, although Miller is twenty metres away having a cigarette.

“You’re early,” he says as he throws it on the ground and grinds it into the cement with his foot.

“You’re not supposed to smoke here,” Clarke snaps at him as he opens the door for her.

“You okay?” he asks. Clarke just nods as she gets into the car. She’s not, obviously, but even if she wanted to tell Miller how she’s feeling, she wouldn’t know where to start. She’s a mess of emotions.

Seeing Finn again brought back old feelings, none of them good. Nothing like the love and affection she once felt for him. Just the gut wrenching feeling of betrayal, the paranoia that comes with having the trust she put in someone pulled out from beneath her. It makes her think of Bellamy, and how he’s lied to her. And she doesn’t want to connect Finn and Bellamy in anyway, because she _knows_ Bellamy isn’t Finn. She knows how sorry he is that he lied, that he made her part of his lies. He wouldn’t cheat on her.

And yet, the niggling feeling that he _could_ eats away at her even as Miller is driving her to her apartment, where she knows Bellamy is waiting for her.

“Miller?” Clarke says quietly, needing to say something just to ease her mind. “Do you think you can ever truly trust someone?” she asks. Miller is quiet for a moment or two.

“You have to,” he says finally. “What they choose to do with that trust is on them.” Clarke knows he’s right. It’s not her fault Finn broke her trust, and it won’t be her fault if Bellamy chooses to do the same. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

Miller drops her off out the front of her apartment building and she makes her way up, trying to decide what she’s going to say to Bellamy. He’ll know straight away something’s up, it’s just a matter of how much she tells him. Is it fair of her to put her insecurities on him?

He’s making dinner when she walks in; he must have known she wouldn’t eat at the hotel. Clarke makes her way to the kitchen and stands in the entrance, leaning against the wall.

“Hey,” Bellamy says, looking up. “What’s wrong?” he says immediately. Clarke takes a deep breath.

“I saw Finn today,” she says and Bellamy’s eyes widen and he puts down the spoon he’s holding. He looks like he wants to comfort her, but he seems to sense there’s something else. “He said Raven had forgiven him. He wanted to catch up.” Bellamy just watches her cautiously, waiting for her to go on. Clarke wills herself not to burst into tears. “It just reminded me of what it felt like when I found out about Raven. How I felt so stupid because I should’ve known. How betrayed I felt. I just--,” she swallows. “I can’t go through that again.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, tilting his head, finally understanding what she’s trying to say. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry,” he says gently, and that’s when the dam breaks and Clarke can’t hold back the tears any longer. Clarke knows it takes all Bellamy’s willpower not to reach for her and pull her into his arms.

“I swear I’ll never do that to you,” he says, his eyes full of remorse. “I know—I know my word doesn’t mean much. I know you can never forgive me for what I did, but I promise you I will never cheat on you.

What I did with Echo, I convinced myself that it wasn’t so bad because I wasn’t the one cheating but I realise now how wrong I was, how awful it was of me to ask you to help me, how shitty it was to lie to you all that time. I don’t blame you for not trusting me. But I love you, Clarke and I want to be with only you and I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you.” His voice cracks and Clarke wipes away a tear from her cheek. “Just please, please don’t leave me. You’re it for me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Clarke promises him, her voice shaky from crying. “I believe you,” she says honestly. “I trust you.” Her doubts seem almost fickle now, she knows Bellamy would never do that to her. She just needed to hear him say it. But she hates that he thinks so little of himself, the self loathing in his voice is evident. She knows it’s not because of her, but she’d like to help him overcome it. “And I forgive you,” she says firmly.

“You don’t have to say that,” Bellamy shakes his head.

“I mean it,” Clarke says, fiercely this time. “You’re forgiven. Now come and hold your girlfriend, she’s had a rough day.” Bellamy manages a half smile as he reaches for her, takes her in his arms. Clarke buries her head into his neck and he kisses the top of her head.

“I love you,” he tells her softly.

“I know,” she murmurs against into his shirt. “I love you too.”


End file.
